That Alpha clenched his fists and took a step forward, only to be held back by his companions.
“Are you stupid? He’ll fight back!”
“He’ll really throw down!”
“You trying to lose credits?”
They didn’t give the Alpha a chance to speak before dragging him away.
Mu Chenxing set down the gun. “Sorry, everyone. Didn’t mean to interrupt your fun.”
He bowed several times to the crowd, then handed the gun to the nearby Omega staffer and went to help move the barriers.
A few Alphas came over to lend a hand.
The barriers were interlocking floor stands that took several people to shift—not too heavy, but he welcomed the help and immediately thanked them.
The Alphas waved it off. “No worries.”
Then one of them piped up. “Can we give it a try?”
Here it comes, Mu Chenxing thought.
He pretended to hesitate. “Well… our event rules say only Omegas can join the competition.”
The Alpha rushed to reassure him. “We won’t join the competition. We just wanna play around.”
“But you Alphas are too good at shooting. Our supplies…”
The Alpha was tongue-tied.
The brown-haired Alpha beside him was quicker on the uptake. “Not enough balloons? We can go buy some! Bullets running low? We’ll chip in!”
These squishy bullets were clearly custom-made—not easy to find.
Mu Chenxing drawled, “We have enough. We prepared tons of materials, planning to hold more events later…”
The brown-haired Alpha lit up. “Even better if you’ve got plenty—we won’t have to run out and buy any. Here’s the deal: Use up your extras, and we’ll pay for them. Problem solved.”
The other Alphas caught on.
“Yeah! We can buy them! We’ll buy and borrow your setup!”
“Right, or we can pay a venue fee if needed!”
YES! Mu Chenxing thought.
He feigned reluctance on his face. “Uh, that doesn’t feel right…”
“No problem at all!”
“You’re not even busy right now, right?”
“The stuff’s just sitting there anyway. We can even help blow up balloons!”
Mu Chenxing glanced at the Omegas huffing away at the balloons, looking pained. After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “You gotta help blow up balloons, though. Otherwise, with your aim—one shot, one pop—our event’s done for.”
The Alphas chorused their agreement.
Mu Chenxing eyed their numbers and suggested, “You’re just a few guys. Buying full supplies might leave extras to waste. How about we split them into portions for you? Squishy bullets: 50 rounds per box, 150 coins. Balloons: 500 per box, 20 coins. Guns are free, but if an Omega needs one and we’re short, you let them go first… Sound good?”
Cheap! At that price, it was basically cost—barely any profit. The Alphas were thrilled.
No objections. Mu Chenxing divided the gear and supplies into big and small portions: the small for the Omegas to keep playing, the big batch moved to the wall side, with barriers stretched out over ten meters to prevent stray shots hitting passersby.
He grabbed a fat black marker and scrawled the pricing on pink ad paper, then stuck it to the event sign. “I’ve gotta check the other venues—staff rotates. This way, they’ll know how to collect payment, and you can play worry-free.”
The Alphas praised his thoughtfulness and asked if they could call over classmates.
Mu Chenxing pretended to peek behind the balloon board. “Sure, but no guarantees how long these’ll last.”
“No worries if they run out.”
The group bought five boxes of bullets on the spot and crowded to the ten-meter barrier zone to start blasting away.
Mu Chenxing watched from afar.
Miss. Pop. Miss. Miss. Pop…
Not a single one matched his perfect one-shot-one-pop rhythm.
More and more Alphas gathered, along with Omega and Beta spectators.
This sparked more Omegas to join in, playing excitedly—cheering on hits, shrugging off misses. Even Alphas can’t hit ’em. Totally normal if we don’t.
Soon, Alphas started emerging from the rental trial area to buy more squishy bullets.
This one shelled out for ten boxes at once.
Once he left, a grinning staffer sidled up and whispered, “Xingxing, business is booming. Bump the prices?”
Mu Chenxing whispered back, “Nah. We bulk-bought cheap. We’re profiting fine. Let ’em think they’re getting a steal—easier to milk ’em later.”
The Omega snickered and flashed an OK sign. “Gotcha~”
Mu Chenxing murmured a few more instructions to the staff, pocketed his hands, and sauntered to the next venue.
Next up: ring toss.
The pots were designed by a vote in the Association group—a trendy cartoon animal in blue tones, paired with pink event backdrops for max cuteness.
No wonder Omegas (and plenty of Betas) flocked here. Never a dull moment.
Mu Chenxing nodded in satisfaction, checked for issues, and moved on.
The next was their Association’s homemade giant Dance Machine.
Backdrops, Holo-Screen projectors, sensors—cheap parts, simple code. A few programming-savvy part-time Omegas whipped it up in a day.
Omegas visibly loved it: every sensor station had someone grooving to the music, waving arms and kicking legs.
Mu Chenxing smiled, turned to leave—and spotted a group entering, led by none other than Zhang Yunli.
They wore casual clothes, stark against the uniformed students. Obvious leaders or teachers.
Zhang Yunli, up front, pointed and explained—likely advising as Association consultant.
Mu Chenxing had reported every event detail to Zhang Yunli and the school clubs department, including letting Alphas buy in. All above board.
But he’d pitched extra requests beyond this event.
So… why were the teachers here?
Thoughts racing, Mu Chenxing jogged over. “Hello, teachers.”
Zhang Yunli smiled. “Perfect timing. This is Mu Chenxing, president of the Omega Growth Association.”
The teachers’ gazes sized him up.
Zhang Yunli introduced, “This is Principal Zhao, Director Lin, Teacher Ye…”
He caught the vice principal from the title; the rest were mysteries.
Mu Chenxing kept it polite, no extra questions—just greetings.
Zhang Yunli: “Since you’re here, walk with us and explain things.”
“Sure.”
He fell in step behind Zhang Yunli, following the play route, detailing each game’s rules and purpose to the leaders:
“…Homemade Dance Machine for eye-hand-foot coordination training. Adjustable intensity and duration—perfect for Omegas. I suggest installing similar gear at the Gymnasium to make exercise fun and draw more Omegas in.
“…3D racing for thrill and reflexes, building tolerance… Recommend holographic racers at the Gymnasium…
“…Mobile hoop shooting…
“…Scatter-ball grab…
…”
Each station had printed pricing: mostly 5-10 coins per go for Alphas/Betas, 5-10 minutes. Super affordable for casual fun.
Every stop buzzed—Omegas squealing in matches, Betas/Alphas competing nearby. Zones kept it harmonious.
After the full loop, the leaders smiled steadily, emotions unreadable.
Then they left.
Tong Xiao, who’d trailed at a distance, sidled up. “What’d the teachers want?”
“No idea.”
“No hints from Teacher Zhang?”
“Nope.” Mu Chenxing snapped back to attention and pinched his cheek. “Why aren’t you playing? Why tail me?”
Tong Xiao swatted his hand. “Gotta tally earnings.”
“Forget that. Tomorrow. Today, play. Hired all these part-timers so you could have fun, not work. Everyone—go play! Oh, and last ten in Association rankings? Hundred high-kicks daily for the next month.”
Tong Xiao: “…Aren’t I vice president? Doesn’t ranking exclude members?”
“Dream on. No privileges!” Mu Chenxing snatched his notebook. “How many points you got?”
Tong Xiao bolted. “Aaaah—!”
Mu Chenxing paused, then burst out laughing.
…
The event ran from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., staff in shifts, Association members helping out while playing.
Blanketed flyers and the Association’s recent buzz had Medical College Omegas swarming—mostly them in the morning, with some Alphas/Betas.
But the games were a hit: fun, competitive, a dozen options. Try ’em all, redo favorites, play with friends—hours flew.
Everyone had the time of their lives. The School Forum lit up with live posts, the hottest being Mu Chenxing’s vid crushing the second-year Alpha’s shooting.
Comments flew: cheating claims, win-prob stats, even fake-video accusations.
The buzz drew Shooting majors for tech breakdowns, concluding:
That far-range squishy-bullet balloon pop? Insanely tough. This Omega’s legit a sharpshooter!
Cue chaos.
By afternoon, Military College Alphas flooded in, raring to go straight for the Shooting Range.
Crowds caused squabbles in line.
Part-timers couldn’t handle it, urgently calling Mu Chenxing.
Sighing, he borrowed construction barriers from facilities, tied balloons to the rails as targets.
Hanging and wind-swayed? Even harder. Alphas loved it.
Association Omegas, wiped from morning play, pitched in inflating and sweeping bullets.
The Shooting Range exploded in crowds but flowed faster—many looped right back. Like a mall blowout sale.
At 6 p.m. shutdown, Alphas balked, unqueued ones demanding extensions.
Mu Chenxing stayed stone-cold, directing pack-up of leftover magazines, battered balloon boards, barriers…
If not all Omegas working, these Alphas might’ve rolled sleeves to block.
Still, they griped loudly, looking fierce—scaring the packers.
Fed up, Mu Chenxing dropped a magazine, grabbed a gun, loaded squishy rounds, and bang-bang twice at the unretrieved barriers.
Two wind-swayed balloons popped.
Alphas eyed the bursts, then the sole gun-toting Omega. Silence fell.
“Get this straight: This is Omega shooting fun. You’re the side characters here. Wanna practice? Hit your training grounds. Or has yours reached perfect scores, so you’re here stealing Omega space to show off?”
The Alphas: “…”
Mu Chenxing tapped the gun. “Who’s got perfect scores? Flash ’em—free play! We’re closing, so go nuts!”
The crowd of Alphas: “……”
Cough “This timing really isn’t great.”
“We’re all about to go eat. Let’s call it.”
“Look at what you’re saying. Would we really steal the Omegas’ venue? Heh heh heh.”
……
The large group of Alphas scattered in all directions, vanishing in an instant.
The Omegas cleaning up the supplies all let out a collective sigh of relief.
Tao Xirui sighed in admiration, “Xingxing really gets results.”
Mu Chenxing shot back without mincing words, “It’s not that I get results—it’s that you guys aren’t tough enough.”
He put the gun back in the case and went around lightly knocking each Omega on the head. “This is school. We’ve got teachers and the school backing us up. We’re perfectly legal about charging for this stuff. What’s there to fear from them? All of you, toughen up.”
The Omegas muttered among themselves:
“It’s so hard. I have to speak that loudly?”
“Yeah, with that many people around, I just get nervous and end up whispering.”
“Xingxing is so good at talking. I could never think of words like that.”
“How about we find a dictionary of cocky comebacks and memorize it?”
“Hahaha, what cocky dictionary? Are you making fun of Xingxing?”
“Heh heh, I think Xingxing being this cocky is awesome and super cool~”
The teased Mu Chenxing hefted the case onto the cart and thought to himself, These guys used to just cry before. At least there’s progress.
……
After a day of hard work, the event wrapped up. They hauled everything back to the office, and everyone was exhausted, heading off to their own dorms.
The next day, Mu Chenxing got together with Tong Xiao and a few others to tally the accounts—
After deducting equipment rentals, material purchases, part-time staff hires, and ad expenses, they’d still netted nearly two thousand bucks.
He posted the ledger in the group chat, and the Omegas—who’d slept like logs and woke up refreshed—were thrilled, spamming emojis like crazy.
Some even started suggesting they hold this kind of event every week to rake in the cash.
Mu Chenxing was torn between laughter and tears. These Omegas have turned into little money-grubbers.
He jumped in: “We’ll make money, sure, but not once a week. Way too exhausting.”
“Not exhausting at all! I was tired mostly from playing the Dance Machine for ages.”
“Hahaha, I raced like ten times.”
“I was throwing arrows into the pot the whole time. So much fun.”
……
Mu Chenxing: “None of that matters right now.”
“Remember our points rules?”
The Omegas: “……”
Mu Chenxing posted the list of the bottom ten. “Everyone, keep an eye on these guys. After their daily run, add a hundred high-knee raises.”
Those ten Omegas: “……”
The others:
“Congrats!”
“Confetti! Dodged a bullet!”
“Thanks!”
Mu Chenxing: “Don’t wanna do high-knees?”
Those ten Omegas immediately sent voice messages wailing desperately, begging for mercy and a pass.
Mu Chenxing: “They’re setting up the simulated shooting game zone in the O-Type Hall of the Gymnasium. It’ll be open tomorrow.”
“If you can hit over 800 points in shooting within a week, no high-knees. If you don’t make it in a week, then the high-knees penalty kicks in.”
“One month of high-knees, or try shooting for a week? Just 800 points~~”
Those ten Omegas: “……”
Even without knowing how high 800 points was, they decisively picked shooting—high-knees could be delayed a week at a time!
![Conquering the Psycho Villain [Quick Transmigration]](https://i3.wp.com/dobynovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/ins.jpg?resize=151,215 "Conquering the Psycho Villain [Quick Transmigration]")
